


Introduction to Escape Velocity

by heyjupiter



Category: Breaking Bad, Community (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1260319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his way north to Alaska, Jesse Pinkman stopped in Colorado, where he decided to try for a fresh start as a student at Greendale Community College. When he signed up for Criminology 101, he had no idea he'd find a familiar face as the professor, nor that he'd end up as a member of the Save Greendale Committee. College life turns out to be a lot weirder than he'd thought it would be, but he can't complain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Criminology 101

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Breaking Bad/Community crossover that's set after the ending of Breaking Bad and concurrently with Community's fifth season. It contains spoilers for the ending of Breaking Bad, and I guess you could say it has spoilers for Community as well. The inspiration for this was obviously that Mike Ehrmantraut and Buzz Hickey are both played by Jonathan Banks.
> 
> * Someone asked if they could read this without having seen Community, and I would say I guess so? The whole story is Jesse's POV as a new student, so he gets some of Greendale's weirdness explained to him. However, the overall tone of this fic is much more in line with Community than Breaking Bad. You should definitely know that Greendale Community College is the kind of place where somebody could teach Spanish for years without knowing the language (and later go on to secretly live in the school's air ducts), so a couple of wanted criminals like Jesse and Mike shouldn't have too much trouble hiding out there. You should also know that Jonathan Banks's Community character, [Professor Buzz Hickey](http://community-sitcom.wikia.com/wiki/Buzz_Hickey), is a former cop who alludes to having seen terrible things. Also, he's not good at drawing duck bills. 
> 
> If you haven't seen Breaking Bad, you probably should not read this. 
> 
> I cheerfully admit that Jesse Pinkman enrolling at Greendale Community College is implausible, but it makes me much happier to write about this than a more likely post-Felina scenario :)
> 
> Content warning: I should note that although this story is on the lighter side as far as post-Felina works go, it will still contain discussion of past abuse and addiction, as well as the resultant trauma. (Because it still contains Jesse Pinkman.) Nothing worse than Breaking Bad's canon, but I don't want to blindside anyone.
> 
> Shoutout to likeadeuce and veradune for encouraging my nonsense!

It was Jesse Pinkman's first day of college, and he was going to be late for class, not because he was stoned or overslept, but because he just couldn't find the room. He looked down at his schedule again and took a deep breath. 

"Are you lost?" a perky voice said. 

Jesse looked up and saw a pretty brunette with a sexy librarian vibe, like she walked off the front cover of a college brochure. Paranoid that she could somehow tell that he didn't belong here, he said, "Um, what?"

She said, "If you're looking for something, I'd be _happy_ to point you in the right direction. I'm on the Greendale New Student Welcoming Committee."

"Oh. Um, I'm looking for Criminology 101?" Jesse said, offering her his schedule.

She smiled. "I'm taking Criminology 101 too! I'll walk you there."

"Oh, thanks."

"So, is this your first semester here?"

"Yeah."

"Have you declared a major?"

"Uh, no, not yet." 

"Well, you have plenty of time to decide," the girl said. "I'm Annie, by the way. Annie Edison."

"Uh, James," Jesse said, extending a hand.

"Very nice to meet you, James," Annie chirped. "Well, here we are!"

Jesse looked up at the classroom door, which he'd already walked past once, and then back down at his schedule. "This room doesn't even have a number on the door."

Annie nodded. "I'll bring it up at the next meeting of the New Student Welcoming Committee. Would you like to present about it?"

"Um."

"I'm sure the committee would love to hear the perspective of a new student."

"Thanks, um, but I think I'm just gonna lie low my first semester or whatever. Just like, get the feel of the place."

"But what better way to do that than by getting involved?" Annie asked, sweeping into the room and sitting down in the front row. Jesse hesitated. It seemed rude not to sit next to her now, but he'd never been a front row kinda guy. 

Well--Jesse Pinkman hadn't. Now he was James Anderson, and he sat next to Annie in the front row. He got out his new notebook and pencil and carefully wrote the date at the top of the page, resolved to be a good student this time around.

Thanks to Annie, Jesse was five minutes early for class. She told him all about Greendale and how great it was, and he nodded. Then, one minute before class, a ghost walked in the door and wrote "Criminology 101, Mr. Hickey" on the board. Jesse stared wide-eyed, and Mike turned around and faced the class. He surveyed the classroom, eyes lingering on Jesse for a few long seconds. Mike nodded at him once, and then introduced himself as "Mr. Hickey" and handed out syllabi to everyone. Jesse tried to listen and take notes, but his ears were buzzing. He was staring at Mike in a way that he was sure was creepy, and if it somehow turned out that this professor was just a guy who looked and sounded exactly like Mike, well, he was going to be pretty creeped out by Jesse, which was not an ideal way to start Jesse's college career.

It had to be a guy who just looked like Mike. Mike was dead, Mr. White had killed him. Hadn't he? Jesse had never seen the body, but he was sure Mr. White would have been thorough about it. But maybe Mr. White had just been fucking with Jesse's head, because how was it possible that there could be another man who looked _so_ much like Mike? Or maybe Jesse was hallucinating. It wouldn't be the first time.

After class, he deliberately fumbled with his backpack, waiting for the other students to leave. He half-watched as Annie went up to Mr. Hickey and asked about extra credit. His reply was dry and sarcastic. He sounded just like Mike used to sound when Jesse asked a dumb question.

Annie pushed her hair behind her ears and turned back toward Jesse. "Did you need help finding your next class?" she asked.

"Uh, no thanks," Jesse said. "This is my only one today. But I, uh, was going to talk to, Mr., uh, Hickey about something."

"Hmm. Well, you do that and see if it gets you anywhere," Annie said, with a snippy tone and a glower in Mike's direction. Then, cheerful again, she added, "Oh, wait, let me give you my number, just in case you have any questions about anything, or if you want to study together, or anything." She neatly wrote her name and number on a page from her notebook, then tore it off and handed it to him.

"Thanks," Jesse said. He tucked it into his pocket. 

"Welcome to Greendale!" Annie said, and then spun out of the room, her skirt swishing behind her. All the other students were long gone, no one else apparently concerned about extra credit or if their professor had come back from the dead. He looked at Mike and said, "Um."

Mike gave Jesse a half-smile and said, "Hey, _James._ I have office hours right now. If you have questions, why don't we take them in that direction?"

"Uh. Yeah, okay." Jesse slung his backpack over one shoulder and followed Mike down the hallway and across the quad. They ended up in the staff parking lot and Jesse said, "Uh, where's your office, exactly?"

Mike said, "In this instance, I thought it might be best if I didn't hold office hours inside my office. Go on, get in."

"Uh, what if someone else goes to your office looking for you?"

"It's the first day of class. The only people with questions are overachievers like Annie, and Greendale really doesn't have too many of those."

"Oh," Jesse said. He got in the passenger side of Mike's car. 

Mike looked over and said, "Just like old times, huh?"

"So, you're… I mean, it's really... you?"

"Yeah."

"I, uh…"

Mike looked over and said, "Let's not talk about this just yet."

"Okay." Jesse stared out the window, watching Greendale go by. It was pretty here, like a town on TV. It wasn't really that far from Albuquerque, but the landscape was completely different. A few minutes later, Mike parked his car and led Jesse into what Jesse assumed was Mike's house.

Once the door was shut behind them, Mike turned and pulled Jesse into a hug. Jesse flinched from the contact at first, but awkwardly returned it. Jesse thought back to when he first met Mike. If someone had tried to tell him then that one day that the older man would ever try to hug him, Jesse would never have believed it, but now there were few people Jesse would be happier to see.

After a long moment, they pulled away, and Mike said, "Didn't think I'd ever see you again, kid."

"Yeah, I… same," Jesse said, his voice suddenly thick. Jesse silently willed himself not to cry.

Mike nodded and gestured at his couch, which was kind of an ugly plaid. "Sit down. You want a drink?"

"Uh…" Jesse said. He hadn't used any drugs the last eight months, and had only drank rarely. But this seemed like both an occasion worth celebrating and a conversation that would be made easier with alcohol, so he said, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you're having."

Mike nodded and came back from the kitchen with two tumblers of Scotch. He handed one to Jesse, sat next down to him on the couch, and then raised his glass. They clinked them together, and Mike said dryly, "To Greendale."

Jesse grinned. "To Greendale."

Mike sipped his drink and said, "From Jesse to James, huh?"

Jesse shrugged. "I dunno. I thought it'd be easier for me if I had another name with a J and that was the first one I thought of. What about Buzz Hickey?"

Mike said, "Eh, it was what my guy had lying around when I needed an ID."

"Oh. Well, I guess it's working out okay so far?" Jesse said.

Mike nodded and said, "Look, Jesse. You know I'm not much for small talk. I heard on the news that Walter is dead. But the last I heard was that you were still missing, presumed dead."

"Well, I'm alive. Mr. White…" Jesse shook his head. "He's not. What about you? I thought… I thought Mr. White killed you. He said..." Jesse trailed off. He knew better than anyone that Mr. White said a lot of things that weren't true.

Mike shrugged and absently rubbed his chest. "Walter tried. He failed."

Jesse smiled. "So now, what, you're teaching college?"

"My skillset has limited applications, Jesse. Teaching criminology at a low-ranked community college happens to be one of them. But it's not a bad life, all things considered. How'd you end up here?"

"Well, I--I mean, it's because of you, really. I had that go bag you helped me put together, before... so I had some money and clean ID, and after--everything--I went back and got it, and I just went north and ended up here. I--I thought I'd go to Alaska but, I dunno. It just seemed... nice here."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Mike said. He sipped his Scotch and they sat in silence for moment. Then Mike said, "Y'know, I read all the reports about the Heisenberg case, after the big story broke. All the information I could get my hands on. Sounded like those Neo-Nazis were keeping somebody locked up there in their lab. Making them cook for them."

Jesse bit his lip and stared down at his hands. "Yeah."

"I thought maybe it was Walter. Thought maybe it served him right."

Jesse laughed, knowing it sounded bitter. "Maybe it would have. But it wasn't him."

Mike reached over and squeezed Jesse's shoulder. "Kid, if I'd've known… "

Jesse shook his head. He knew Mike meant what he was implying. If Mike had known, he would have figured out a way to save Jesse. But it had been Mr. White who had saved him, one last time. Jesse's laugh turned into a painful cough. "It's over," Jesse said. "I got out."

"Well. There's that. You okay, Jesse?"

Jesse shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."

"Hmm," Mike said. "Well, you're alive, anyway, and that's better than I was afraid of."

Jesse smiled. "Yeah. Same."

"Walter's definitely dead, though?" Mike asked, and from his tone, Jesse wondered what Mike might do if Mr. White were still alive.

"Yeah. Definitely."

"Did you kill him?"

Jesse was quiet for a long moment. Mike said, "You don't have to answer that. But I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"No, it's... I didn't. But he… I think he wanted me to. Or he... I don't know. He offered. He gave me a gun. For a minute, I thought I would… but I didn't."

"Uh-huh."

"He--he saved my life," Jesse said. It was the first time he'd said it aloud.

"Uh- _huh_."

"Yeah… I… I dunno. He paid to have me killed. He… he killed Jane. But still, he came in all like, Rambo and shit, and…" Jesse shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense, but…"

"Well, to be honest, few things about your relationship with him ever did."

"Guess not," Jesse said with a sigh. "So nobody at Greendale knows…"

Mike pursed his lips. "Have you met Dean Pelton yet?"

"Uh, the weird little guy who gave a speech at new student orientation?"

Mike snorted. "That's the one. Anyway, he's not… not really the type to dig too deep into anything. He's never questioned my credentials. Actually, I think he has me confused with another professor--seems to think I've been working here for fifteen years. I've given him no reason to think otherwise. I trust you're not going to give anyone any reason to investigate you too closely?"

"Yeah. No, I'm… I'm straight. I just want… a fresh start."

"It's rare in life that you get one of those."

"Yeah."

"But I think Greendale could be that for you, Jesse. If you play your cards right."

"Yeah? How do I do that?" 

"Eh. I don't think you'll have a problem fitting in here. There are a lot of real weirdos at Greendale."

Jesse laughed. "Yeah. I never even thought about college before, really, but after I moved here I kept seeing the commercials, and it seemed like, I dunno. If those guys could do it, maybe I could, too?"

"You definitely can," Mike said confidently. "You're interested in criminology, huh?"

Jesse shrugged. "Yeah? I don't know, it sounded cool. And I thought maybe, you know, I'd have some inside information or something? You know, like, from the other side. I mean, I didn't know you'd be the teacher. Obviously."

Mike laughed. "So what else are you taking, chemistry?"

Jesse winced. "Nah. I think I got all the chemistry I need for a lifetime. I'm taking, um, Fundamentals of Law, Spanish, and painting?"

"Law and criminology? You looking to fill Saul Goodman's shoes?"

"Ha, no, just… I dunno, thought it might be interesting," Jesse said.

"Let's see… Spanish isn't with Chang, is it?"

"I don't think so?"

"Good, good. And painting?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess it's kinda dumb, but I just always liked drawing and stuff? I never really painted before, but um, this semester they were only offering that or sculpture?"

"I never knew you liked to draw."

Jesse shrugged. "Yeah, well, guess it didn't come up much."

Mike said, "Guess not. You know, I draw a little too."

Jesse did a double take. "Yeah?"

Mike shrugged. "In my spare time. Publishers are interested."

"Wow," Jesse said. He'd never really thought of Mike having spare time, but he supposed now he would have some. "So have you taken any art classes here?"

"Nah. Self-taught."

Jesse finished his drink and stared down at his hands. Mike said, "Well, why don't you stay for dinner?"

"I dunno. I have homework…"

Mike laughed. "Kid, trust me, you don't need to worry about your coursework at Greendale."

"No!" Jesse said, and Mike looked at him with more surprise than Mike usually expressed. Jesse said, "I mean, y'know, I dicked around for all of high school, and I just… god, you know, if this is my fresh start, I--I kinda want to. You know. Learn stuff."

"Well--well, that's good, Jesse," Mike said. "I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to denigrate this institution of learning."

"I mean, I know it's not like, Harvard, or whatever."

"You can say that again," Mike said. He finished his drink and said, "But Harvard's probably full of assholes anyway."

"Yeah, totally."

"Stay for dinner, Jesse. As a serious student, it'll be good for you to build rapport with your teachers. You'll have plenty of time to study afterward."

"Okay, yeah, thanks. I've pretty much just been eating TV dinners anyway."

"Hmm," Mike said. "That might be all I have too, come to think of it. I don't have company that often. Let me take a look." 

Before, Jesse had never given much thought to what Mike's personal life was like. Certainly nothing about Mike's professional demeanor had ever encouraged Jesse to think about his personal life, but now Jesse couldn't help but realize that Mike might be kind of lonely here. Lonely the way Jesse was. 

Mike got up and called from the kitchen, "I could make scrambled eggs, a frozen lasagna, or a frozen pizza? Or a bunch of military rations, but those are for the emergency shelter I'm building."

"You're building an emergency shelter?"

Mike shrugged. "I believe in being prepared."

Jesse knew full well he wouldn't be living in Colorado--maybe not living at all--if it weren't for Mike's preparedness. He said, "Um, pizza's good." He ate pizza pretty much every day, but he didn't think he'd ever get tired of it.

"Yeah, the lasagna never turns out the way it looks on the box," Mike agreed.


	2. Modern Movement Studies

After his first week of classes, Jesse decided that Mike had been right about Greendale. The classes really weren't that hard, or maybe Jesse was just smarter than he'd thought he was. It probably helped that, unlike high school, he spent his evenings studying and doing his homework, instead of getting fucked up. He spent a long time working on a replica pipe bomb for his criminology witness intimidation project. It seemed like a weird assignment to Jesse, but he didn't really know what a college criminology class was supposed to entail, and he wasn't about to question Mike. 

For Spanish, he did a worksheet of -ar verbs and made a diorama of a classroom, with neat labels for stuff like "la silla" and "el boligrafo." Mr. Winger, his law professor, had local TV commercials that made Saul's old ones look subtle. But he didn't give any homework, so he was okay by Jesse. It gave him more time to spend on his first assignment for his painting class, which was a still life of some alphabet blocks. It was frustrating for Jesse. He couldn't get the lighting to come out right, no matter how hard he tried. 

He went to see his art teacher, Ms. Diaz, during her office hours to explain his predicament.

"It's okay, Jesse," she said. "I grade on effort, and I can tell you're working really hard on this."

"I don't care about the _grade_ ," Jesse said. "Or, I mean, I do, but… I want it to look better. I want to be better at art. That's like, why I'm taking the class."

Ms. Diaz smiled. "Well, that will come with time, Jesse. People think making art is all about having flashes of insight, being a moody creative. But a lot of it is just rote practice. If you paint a whole bunch of boxes, you're going to get better at painting boxes. That'll carry you pretty far."

"So, your advice for me is just to… paint more boxes?"

"What you have here is perfect for your first still life assignment. If you want to get better at painting, just keep painting. It can be the blocks again, if you'd like."

"Oh," Jesse said.

"Or if you don't want to spend the money on canvas, sketching will help too. Figure study. You know what they say about practice."

"Uh, you should do it?"

"Well, I was going to say it makes perfect, but yours is good too."

"Oh, right. Well… thanks, Ms. Diaz. See you next Tuesday."

"Have a good weekend, Jesse."

"Right, you too," Jesse said. He took his painting and walked outside. He'd almost forgotten that it was Friday. This was his first weekend as a college student, but he didn't really have any plans. He definitely didn't see any Girls Gone Wild parties in his future. When he was a high school student, that kind of thing seemed like the only reason to even consider going to college, but now the idea had lost most of its appeal.

Jesse had been living in the city of Greendale for a few months before classes had started, but he didn't have much of a life. He still had a little bit of the cash he'd put in his go-bag, but he supplemented it with a part-time job at Pizza Time Pizza. He kind of enjoyed the work of making pizza, all things considered. His coworkers were nice enough, but Jesse hadn't wanted to get too close to any of them. He was still technically a wanted criminal, and although he was getting more comfortable in Greendale, it was hard to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. The only social activities he'd partaken in were weekly NA meetings, but he kept his participation there at a minimum. It was easier to quietly make pizzas and then go home and watch Discovery Channel. Mostly, he just felt lucky to be alive and free.

Still, it was a beautiful Friday afternoon, and Jesse decided he didn't have to go back to his apartment just yet. He found a spot on the quad and started sketching Borchert Hall. He still marveled sometimes at how, well, green it was here, and how he could go outside whenever he wanted. He'd never been what you'd call outdoorsy before, but six months in a concrete cell and windowless meth lab had changed his perspective on a few things. He breathed in the fresh air and concentrated on the way the light hit the building. He concentrated so hard that he didn't realize guys were playing hackey sack nearby until the sack hit his sketchpad.

"Whoa, hey, hi, what's up, sorry, man!" a shirtless guy said, running up to Jesse. "Total hackey foul, my bad."

"Uh, no problem," Jesse said, handing the knit sack back. "I wasn't really paying attention."

"Are you new here?" the guy said, studying Jesse's face.

"Yeah, this is my first semester," Jesse said, looking back down at his sketchpad. He didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't comfortable with people looking too closely at him.

"You play hackey sack?"

"Uh, no, not really."

"Oh. You just looked like you might."

Jesse shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not really into sports."

"The hack's not a sport, it's a way of _life_."

"Oh, right on," Jesse said politely.

"Right _on_. Well, if you ever wanna start, you're welcome to join us. I'm Vaughn."

"James," Jesse said. 

"Cool. Good to meet you, bro. Bye. Lates."

"Uh, bye?" Jesse watched Vaughn walk back over to his group of friends, bouncing the hackey sack off his knees as he went. In his past life, Jesse knew he'd have fit right in with them. Hell, one of them looked _exactly_ like Badger, and they all reeked of weed. But Jesse was clean now, he reminded himself sternly, and he was just here to learn. He returned to his sketch, but managed only a few more lines before he was interrupted again.

"Hey James, are you working on your witness intimidation project for criminology?" an unmistakably perky voice asked. 

Jesse looked up and saw Annie Edison standing in front of him, along with a woman with curly dirty blonde hair, who appeared to be checking Jesse out. "Oh, hey Annie. Nah, just… nothing," he said, closing his sketchbook. 

"Oh. Well, do you want to work on it together this weekend?" Annie said. 

"I'm actually already done with it."

"Oh," Annie said, eyebrows raised. 

"Um, next time, though," Jesse said, feeling that was what was expected of him.

"Sure, next time," Annie said.

Annie's friend cleared her throat loudly, and Annie said, "Oh, James, this is my friend Britta. Britta, this is James. He's a new student, we have a few classes together."

Jesse stood up and extended his hand. "Hey, nice to meet you." 

Britta smiled. "Nice to meet you too! Soo, are you friends with Vaughn?"

"Who? Oh, that hackey sack guy? Uh, I dunno, we just met, like, two minutes ago."

"Oh. Great," Britta said, her smile wider. She gestured at Jesse's sketchbook lying closed on the bench, and asked, "Are you an artist?"

"Um, I dunno, I just like drawing and stuff… I'm taking Intro to Painting this semester?"

"It's so important to have an outlet for artistic expression, right?"

"Yeah, totally," Jesse said.

"I prefer to express myself through acts of political protest and modern dance."

"Like, at the same time?"

"Not usually. But I have some ideas for combining them!"

"Um, sounds cool," Jesse said.

"So, are you going to the Back to School dance tonight?"

"There's a dance?"

Annie, looking crushed, said, "Didn't you see any of the posters and flyers?"

Jesse sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. "I can be kinda oblivious, I guess."

"Maybe I should have put the flyers on neon paper. Or maybe we need more bulletin boards on campus," Annie said.

Britta said, "Well, looks like the word of mouth campaign is working just fine, so no need to kill any more trees."

"I used _recycled_ paper, Britta."

Jesse said, "So, a dance? Like… high school style?" Not that he'd gone to many dances in high school.

"I know, it's totally lame," Britta said.

Annie made an indignant sound, and Britta added, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said 'lame,' that was ableist of me." Annie kept glaring, and Britta added, "Also, it'll be fun! I mean, even though dances totally reinforce restrictive archaic heteronormative traditions. They also fulfill our primitive human needs for community and physical movement. Fun."

"Um," Jesse said.

"Also, there will be cookies," Annie said.

"Vegan cookies. Are you vegan?" Britta asked.

"Well… no," Jesse said. She looked disappointed and he added, "But I like cookies, though."

"We'll introduce you to the rest of our study group," Annie said. When Jesse didn't respond immediately, she added, "We're kind of a big deal," and flipped her hair.

"Uh, yeah, sure, sounds cool," Jesse said. 

"Great! It starts at eight," Annie said. She reached in her bag and added, "Here! I have some extra flyers."

Britta took the flyer and scribbled something on it. Then she handed it to Jesse and said, "Here's my number. Like, in case you have any questions, or whatever."

Jesse smiled. "Thanks, yo."

"Anyway, we actually have to go help set up for it, so…" Annie said. 

"See you tonight!" Britta said, waving goodbye as Annie dragged her across the quad.

Jesse looked down at the flyer and sighed. He wasn't sure if Annie had been flirting with him or just very dedicated to the New Student Welcoming Committee, but Britta had definitely been into him. Jesse wasn't _not_ -into her, but he didn't think he was up for dating yet. Maybe not ever. But it was nice to be asked, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to another weekend where the only people he interacted with were his coworkers and the hosts of MythBusters. He put his stuff in his backpack and wondered what you were supposed to wear to a community college back to school dance.

Back at his apartment, Jesse looked at himself in the mirror. He'd never been especially vain about his looks, but he'd known that girls usually thought he was cute. He wasn't sure if he qualified as "cute" anymore. He still wore a beard. He kept it neatly trimmed, now, but it helped cover up the scars on his face. It made him look older, too. 

Of course, it wouldn't be his face that would keep girls from wanting to date him. It would be the fucked up scars and marks on the rest of his body. It would be the panicky nightmares he still woke up screaming from most nights. It would be the fact that Jesse was responsible for the deaths of his last two girlfriends, and he really didn't deserve a third chance.

But he could go to a dance, and eat a cookie, and meet Annie's study group, right? He found a clean shirt that didn't have the Pizza Time logo on it and watched Discovery Channel until it was time for the dance.

Jesse wasn't sure when he should get there. Annie and Britta had said eight, but Jesse figured it would be lame to arrive at eight. But then, he was pretty sure going to a community college back-to-school dance was pretty lame in the first place, so maybe everyone else _would_ be there at eight? Jesse felt like he had once understood basic social conventions, but now he was pretty rusty. He reminded himself that he was lucky to be worrying about such a minor problem, and decided to aim for 8:30.

When he got there, he was surprised to see that there was actually a pretty big turnout for the dance. He took a soda and absently fingered the NA chip on his keychain as he surveyed the crowd. He recognized some people from his classes, but he hadn't really made any friends yet, aside from Annie, who he saw dancing with Mr. Winger, their law professor. Jesse thought that was kind of weird, but at least it probably meant that Annie wasn't flirting with Jesse, given the way those two were looking at each other.

Standing in the dark and listening to loud music was kind of pointless when you were sober, Jesse realized. He stood at the edge of the crowded cafeteria and bobbed his head to a few songs, feeling awkward and out of place until Britta materialized next to him. "James! You made it!" she said, touching his hand.

Jesse flinched. He was better about it now than he had been after he'd first escaped, but he still hated to be touched by surprise. Britta withdrew her hand and said, "Sorry."

Jesse made himself laugh and said, "No, it's cool, I just didn't see you. What's up?"

"Just, um, you know, dancing," Britta said, awkwardly shimmying her shoulders. 

Jesse nodded.

"Hey, do you want to step outside for a minute?"

"Uh… yeah, sure," Jesse said. He wasn't sure what Britta had in mind, but he was sure he would rather be outside than in this dark, crowded room. He followed Britta, and she led him outside and across the quad to a secluded bench. Britta smiled at him. "I thought it might be easier to talk out here."

"Yeah," Jesse said. 

"Annie said you're new here?"

"Yeah."

"What are you majoring in?"

"Um, I'm undeclared right now. What about you?"

"Psychology. I want to be a therapist."

Jesse swallowed. "Oh. Cool."

"Yeah. I think psychology is an amazing field of study. There's so much untapped human potential, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, majorly," Jesse said. Britta was so smart and pretty. Jesse knew he should go home immediately, before he had a chance to ruin her life.

She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and said, "So you like art, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean I've just always liked to draw and stuff."

"I'd love to see some of your work sometime."

"Oh, I mean… my stuff's not that great." Britta looked sad, and Jesse said, "Uh, maybe later this semester. After I take my first art class hopefully I'll get better at art, right?"

"Right! Well, I'd love that."

"Cool." Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets, again fidgeting with his NA chip. 

Britta said, "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Nah, not at all. Um, actually, would it be cool if I bummed one?" Jesse asked. He'd cut way back on smoking--all that time with the Nazis had fucked up his lungs. But a cigarette would definitely relax his nerves.

"Oh, yeah, I'm happy to share," Britta said. She reached in her purse and produced a joint, which she lit and offered to Jesse.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I thought you meant, like, a cigarette," Jesse said, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"No way, I quit smoking cigarettes. But pot is like, totally natural."

"Yeah… but, um, no thanks."

"Oh, are you straight edge or something?"

"Um, something like that."

"Oh. Well, that's cool. I mean, I respect that. I guess I just assumed… you know, based on how you look..." Britta took a toke and frowned down at the joint. "It just helps me relax. Sometimes I get kind of anxious."

"Me too," Jesse said, possibly more emphatically than he had intended.

"Well, are you sure you don't want to try it? I'm not a junkie or anything, I swear."

Jesse winced and said, "No, thanks. I'm… I'm actually in NA?"

"What?"

"Um. Narcotics Anonymous? I'm… I'm in recovery." Jesse didn't keep that part of his past a secret. Most of his coworkers knew, and they were cool about it. His sponsor, a guy named Marco, had encouraged Jesse to be honest about it. Being sober wasn't something Jesse should be ashamed of, Marco said. And he wasn't, really. Having used drugs was probably the least-worst thing Jesse had ever done. 

"Ohh, oh my God, of course you are."

"What?" Jesse asked, paranoid that his identity was as obvious as he'd feared it was when he first moved to Colorado.

"Sorry, I mean, I'm just always into guys who are fucked up. I mean… I'm… not… you're… god, I'm really Britta-ing this." She gently stubbed the joint out on her shoe.

"You're what?" 

"Britta-ing it… it means to, um, make a mistake."

"Wait, you use your own name to mean make a mistake?"

Britta bit her lip. "It's kind of a joke my friends started."

"Right… well, look, Britta, I've been clean for eight months, but you're right, I'm still pretty fucked up. You seem really cool, but you should… I mean, no, I should go," Jesse said, and he stood to leave. 

"No, wait, I'm sorry," Britta said. "I… I think it's cool that you're clean. That's awesome, and I shouldn't judge you for it. I should offer you emotional support, or counseling! Do you want me to counsel you?"

Jesse laughed. "Thanks, Britta. I… I have an NA sponsor, though. I'm just… I just don't want to smoke pot. And I probably shouldn't get involved with anyone right now."

"Right, no, I totally respect that. Definitely. Boundaries are so important."

"Cool. See you around?"

"Yeah. No, wait, James, don't go. Why don't we go back inside and I'll introduce you to our study group?" Jesse rubbed the back of his neck and considered. Britta said, "You can never have too many friends, right?"

"Yeah, okay," Jesse said. "Thanks." He figured it would still be best for Britta if he went home right now, but Jesse was lonely and weak. At least he'd told her part of the truth. Hopefully enough of the truth to keep her from being too interested in him, but maybe not so much that they couldn't be friends. Because Britta was right, Jesse could use a friend.

As they walked back across the quad, Britta started describing her friends to him. "Well, you already know Annie… then there's Jeff… Jeff's kind of a jerk, but it's because he's damaged, from his terrible relationship with his dad. Abed's… really smart, but really weird. I've diagnosed him as being on the spectrum. You… well, it'll just take some time to get used to Abed. He's best friends with Troy, who's really great. He used to be a high school football star, but he's really sweet. And Shirley is a strong, independent black woman, who loves Jesus and baking. And Pierce is… Pierce isn't around anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Eh, he was really old and racist."

"Oh."

"But he had his moments."

"Well, um, still, I'm sorry for your loss," Jesse said.

After a moment, Britta said, "Oh, no, no, he's not dead. He's just banned from campus."

"Oh."

"But that was nice of you to say."

"Um, no problem."

Jesse met all of Britta's friends. They seemed kind of weird, but he had to admit he'd had more fun there than he would have at home alone. And he agreed to sign up for the two day Nicolas Cage class. He couldn't believe that you could take classes about that. Jesse thought he might kinda like college.


	3. Principles of Higher Education

Two weeks later, Mike--Mr. Hickey--handed back their witness intimidation projects at the end of class. Jesse was pleased to see he'd earned an A on his fake pipe bomb, and he happily put it in his backpack and got ready to leave. Next to him, Annie made a sound like a wounded animal.

"No, it's okay, it's just my project," Jesse said. "It's not a real bomb."

"What? Oh, no, I'm sorry, James, I was just… responding to the unfair grade I received."

Jesse looked over at her project, a fake rat with a knife in it and the collaged words "you're next" above it. She'd obviously spent a lot of time on it, although Jesse wasn't sure how intimidating any actual witnesses would find it. Still, he said, "Oh. Um, I think yours looks cool."

Annie flipped her hair. "It's not cool, it's _intimidating_ , and it deserves more than an A-!"

"Oh, wait, you got an A-? That's great!"

"Maybe for _you_ \--uh, no offense--but I'm a straight-A student. It's kind of my thing."

Jesse shrugged. "An A- is still an A, right?"

Annie made another wounded animal sound and said, "What did you get?"

"Um, I forget," Jesse said. He'd learned how intense Annie could be, especially since she joined his Fundamentals of Law class. 

Annie grabbed his bag and pulled the bomb out. "An A? _You_ got an A? How is that possible?"

Jesse shrugged. "I worked hard on it, yo," he said defensively.

"Did Hickey give you extra credit last week? I saw you wait to talk to him after class."

"Um, no, I just wanted to make sure I had the right book. Look, I'm sorry you got an A- but it's not the end of the world. I mean, I got like, straight Ds in high school, and I turned out… I mean, okay, I guess?"

Annie burst into tears and Jesse said, "Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" 

But Annie grabbed her fake rat and ran out of the room.

"Shit," Jesse mumbled. Mike looked at him and shrugged.

"She'll get over it," he said.

"I don't get what's so bad about an A-, anyway," Jesse said.

"That's why I like you, kid."

"Um, you didn't give me an A just because--"

"Nah, you earned it. I did give her the minus just because she's annoying, though."

"Oh," Jesse said. "She's… I mean, she tries really hard."

"Yeah, and that'll get her pretty far," Mike said with a shrug. "Getting an A- on one project isn't gonna ruin her life."

"Guess not. See you later," Jesse said. He felt bad for Annie, but it didn't seem like there was anything he could do. Besides, he had a shift at PIzza Time. When he left work, he had several texts from Britta. Apparently he'd missed some kind of grade-oriented riot at Greendale. Britta had wanted him to join the protest, and then she'd wanted to make sure he was okay, and then she wanted to know if he wanted to eat lunch with the group, and then she wanted to know if he was mad at her. 

He sent back, "sorry I missed it! Was at work."

"Np. Join the save greendale comm?"

"lol what?"

"just come. study rm 2tmrow at 12."

"idk maybe"

"k :)"

The next morning Annie found Jesse on the quad, where he was reading the latest Greendale Mirror, unable to believe how badly Annie's A- had gotten out of hand. She said, "Jesse, are you coming to the Save Greendale Committee meeting?"

"Oh… Britta said something about that. That's really happening?"

"Yes, James, it's real. I think it would be really good for you to participate as a new student."

"What is it?"

"Well, this is our first meeting. But as the name implies, we want to save Greendale."

"From what?"

"Um, well, from tension between students and professors. You know. After yesterday's, um, riot."

"Oh. I don't know if I should really get involved? I'm like… not much of a joiner."

Annie put her hands on her hips and said, "Listen, James… Britta told me about you."

Jesse furrowed his eyebrows. "Told you what about me?" He hadn't told Britta anything incriminating, had he?

"You know… that you're… in recovery?"

"Oh. Yeah," Jesse said, crossing his arms.

"Wait, what did you think I was talking about?"

Jesse shrugged and tried to look innocent. Annie said, "Well, I just… I think you could really benefit from a support network."

"Yeah… I mean, thanks, but that's like, the whole point of NA."

"Look, James, I know what you're going through."

"You… do?"

"I… may have developed a prescription drug habit in high school."

"Oh. Huh."

"But I went to rehab, and I'm fine now."

"So how long have you been clean?"

"It's been over five years. Um… mostly," she said quietly. "Look, I'm sorry, I know I was… rude to you in class yesterday, and sometimes I can be really intense, but… I think you should come to this meeting, okay? Plus, Britta really wants you to go."

Jesse sighed. "I told Britta it wasn't a good idea for… for there to be anything between us."

"No, I know, she told me that too. But still, Britta's a good friend, and… I think you could use some friends right now."

Jesse tried to keep his face blank as he said, "Yeah?"

Annie shrugged. "It's your first semester of college. I remember what that was like. So. Will you please come to this meeting? We could use a new student's input."

"Okay, jeeze, fine, but just… don't expect me to be any good at it. I've never been on a committee before."

"Really? Never?"

"Nope."

"Aww, this is so exciting! Your first committee! It'll look so good on your resume." Annie smiled at Jesse, and he smiled back, hoping he wouldn't fuck up the Save Greendale Committee like he'd fucked up everything else. 

The committee seemed to be mostly Annie's group of friends, although Jesse was surprised to see Mike there, eating some of his gross military rations. The meeting started with Mr. Winger moving to ban the Dean from future meetings, which seemed promising to Jesse. Then everyone started eating lunch.

Annie said, "I want to welcome James to the Save Greendale Committee. It's his first committee!" 

Britta and Shirley both said, "Aww," and then Mr. Winger said, "Aww," but sarcastically. 

Abed said, "James is too young to be the new Pierce. If anything he seems like he's infringing on Jeff's territory."

"Huh?" Jesse said.

Annie said, "He's not here to _replace_ anyone! He's here to provide his unique _perspective_ on the committee."

Britta said, "This isn't a sitcom, Abed. It's real life."

Abed said, "Oh, I get it. He's here as a new romantic interest."

Mr. Winger looked up from his phone and studied Jesse's face for a moment, then shrugged and looked back down at his phone. 

Jesse said, "I just came because Annie said they wanted a new student? But, um, I can go?"

"No, stay," Annie said.

"If we have to sit through these meetings, James shouldn't get out of them just because he's a new student," Mike said.

"Oh, I get it," Abed said. " _You're_ the new Pierce. That makes more sense."

"Nobody's the new anything, Abed," Mr. Winger said.

"That's right," Britta said. "Each of us is a unique individual."

"Boo, Britta," Mr. Winger said.

"She's right," Shirley said. "You know God would only make one Pierce."

"Not according to Pierce's belief system, which we should respect. Even if it makes no sense," Britta said.

Jesse raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with Mike, who shrugged and gave him a half-smile over his nonperishable stew.

Mike said, "So, is this committee going to do anything, or is it just a ladies who lunch kind of deal?"

"I find that sexist! I think," Britta said.

"Not going to do anything," Mr. Winger said.

"Yes it _is_ ," Annie said immediately. "There are all kinds of things we can do!"

"I'd like for our committee to make the campus commit to solar power," Britta said.

"I want pizza on Fridays," Troy said.

"James, didn't you have an idea to share?' Annie said.

"What? Oh, um, just… some of the rooms here don't have numbers on the doors? So it's like, kind of confusing?"

"That's how I met James," Annie said proudly. "He couldn't find Professor Hickey's classroom, because it didn't have a number on the door. I addressed that with the New Student Welcoming Committee, but, um…"

"But you're the only one on that committee?" Mr. Winger said.

"At the moment, yes," Annie said.

"Putting numbers on classroom doors would be nice," Shirley said.

"As long as the numbers are sustainably produced!" Britta said. "What are those numbers made out of, anyway?"

"Whoa, what _are_ numbers made out of?" Troy asked.

"We could just print them on paper and tape them up?" Jesse suggested. "Um, recycled paper," he added, looking at Britta. She smiled. 

"James and I could work on that project together," she said.

"Great! You two can form the room numbers subcommittee. James's first subcommittee! Aww," Annie said. 

"Um, that's cool," Jesse said.

"Cool cool cool," Abed agreed.

Annie said, "I'll trust you two to take care of it, but I would like to suggest that maybe you should laminate those numbers, to minimize the amount they can be defaced by our fellow students."

"Do you _know_ what laminating things does to the _environment_?" Britta asked.

"Oh! No, what?" Annie asked.

"I… will look into that," Britta replied. "It's probably not good, though."

"Just make sure you don't get on the wrong side of the custodians," Mike said. "You really don't want that."

"Is that a threat?" Annie asked.

"No. Just a piece of useful information," Mike said. "If I ever threaten you, you'll know it."

Troy moaned and said, "Seriously, why are you so cool? Is there a movie about you?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Mike said.

"Okay, well, we'll be sure to investigate all the environmental, social, and political ramifications of putting numbers on the doors before we enact any new policies," Britta said.

"Um, yeah, totally," Jesse said.

"Fantastic," Annie said. "You can report back to us at our next meeting. Meanwhile, I'll compile a list of other issues for the committee to focus on. I'm happy to hear suggestions."

"What about getting another trampoline?" Troy said.

"Ooh, I don't know if that's such a good idea," Mr. Winger said.

"Yeah, probably not," Troy said, dejectedly.

After the meeting, Britta said, "So, do you want to start working on our door numbering project?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jesse said. "Do you want to go to the library? We can look up if laminating stuff is bad for the environment? Or whatever?"

"I didn't know you cared so much about the environment," Britta said. Her eyes looked dangerously like she might cry.

"Well, I mean, since you mentioned it?" Jesse said. "I don't really know anything about laminating, so… yeah, you know, might as well look into it?"

"I'm so glad you joined the committee!" Britta said, beaming at him.

"Um, yeah, me too," Jesse said, surprised to realize how much he meant it.


	4. Investigations in Identity Politics

For once, Jesse had gotten to the library before Annie. They met weekly to study for their criminology and law classes together, and she was always there before him. Jesse still couldn't believe how hard Annie worked. He wondered if this is what the smart kids in high school had been doing with their free time, always making flash cards and posters and stuff. He had to admit that doing all this stuff definitely helped. They were coming up on midterms and Jesse had straight As. He briefly wanted to tell his parents about his achievement, but they thought he was dead, so it probably wasn't the best idea. He pushed them out of his mind and started doodling in his notebook.

Annie burst into the library, joining him at their usual table. Her eyes were wide and her normally-perfect hair was slightly disheveled. She set her bag down melodramatically. "James," she hissed. "You will not _believe_ what I just found out."

"Oh man, was there some other part of Pierce's will?" Jesse had never met Pierce Hawthorne, but everything his friends had told him about the man's recent funeral and will sounded completely insane. Britta was very excited about her new iPod, but it sounded like the guy had enjoyed mind games a little too much for Jesse's comfort.

"No, this is…" she bit her lip. "We shouldn't talk about this here. Let's go."

"Are you serious? Is everything okay?"

"I--I don't know." She sounded shaken.

Jesse sighed. "Okay, sure, where do you want to go?"

She glanced around. "Let's go out on the quad, where there are more people."

"Um, okay?" Jesse gathered up his stuff and followed Annie outside. He suspected she was overreacting to something, but knew better than to say so. They found an area removed from other students, but in view of them, and then she handed him a manila folder. 

"Read it," she hissed.

Jesse opened it and was surprised to find a Buzz Hickey's Greendale faculty file, with some added copies of his state ID and other records. Everything had been highlighted and annotated in Annie's handwriting. "You did a background check on Professor Hickey? Is this because of the bulletin board thing?" Annie and Mike had argued about how best to get a new bulletin board for the cafeteria, after the old one had been destroyed in the riot Annie had incited after Mike had given her an A-. Jesse thought the whole thing was pretty dumb, but he'd stayed quiet about it.

Flustered, Annie said, "What? No! I mean, a little. I just wanted… I also thought maybe he'd give me some extra credit for it. But look, this makes no sense, right?"

Jesse felt sick to his stomach. "Um, I dunno. What qualifications do you need to teach at community college? I mean, does Jeff have them?"

"This goes beyond unqualified, though. There's just a blank. It's like he didn't exist at all before coming to Greendale."

"Maybe he changed his name."

"Well, obviously. But why?"

"He… probably had a good reason." Thinking quickly, Jesse said, "I mean, he used to be a cop, right? Maybe it's like, a witness protection program kinda thing."

"Well, why would they pick Buzz Hickey as a fake name?"

"I dunno, maybe it was just like, whatever ID they had lying around at the time."

Annie looked at him sharply. "Wait, do you know something about this?"

"What? No way," Jesse said. "I dunno, he just seems like a good guy. Um, he's a good teacher."

Annie pursed her lips skeptically. "I still think we should look into this a little bit deeper."

"Well, what about after midterms? Shouldn't we study for those? And like, get ready for the dance, and everything?"

Annie sighed. "I guess you're right. He's probably not going to go anywhere in the next week or so. He'll have midterms to grade."

"Right, totally," Jesse said, and tried to keep his face from falling. He had to tell Mike about this, but then Mike would probably leave Greendale. Jesse had already lost Mike once, and now he was the only person who really understood where Jesse was coming from. He knew it was selfish to want Mike to stay, if it meant that Mike might end up in jail or worse, but… Jesse still wanted Mike to stay.

He followed Annie back into the library and studied with her, but his heart wasn't in it. Annie could tell. After they finished going through all their review flashcards twice, she put her hand on his and said, "James, I hope I didn't freak you out. I'm sure Professor Hickey isn't… I mean, I'm sure he's not dangerous or anything. It's just that after everything with Chang… oh, right, you weren't here for that. Well, trust me, you just can't be too cautious."

"Yeah, okay."

"How are you feeling?"

"Um, just kinda stressed, I guess. You know, midterms?"

"I mean, you're not like, gonna, you know, relapse?"

Jesse blinked. He'd been thinking about whether or not he was going to have to get a new identity and leave down, not whether he could score some meth. He shook his head and said, "No, I think I'm just gonna stick with coffee."

"Okay. Right. Good. Well, let me know if you need anything, okay?" She looked genuinely concerned for him.

"Yeah, sure. But really, I'm totally fine, Annie." He checked the time and said, "I gotta get going to work. See you in class."

"Don't forget about decorating for the midterms dance!"

"Oh, right. I'll be there."

Annie still looked concerned, but Jesse shrugged it off and went to work his shift. He was distracted, unable to stop thinking about Annie's intensity, and he screwed up a bunch of pizzas. Luckily his manager Sherry was pretty chill about it. "You okay, James?" she asked. "You're off your game."

"Yeah, God, I'm sorry, just like, real stressed from school. It's midterms?"

"Mmm," Sherry said. "Yeah, Tim called out to study. Why don't you just clock out early? You can take those screwup pizzas home with you. I'm sure some of your friends could use some brain food."

"God, actually, that would be great?"

Sherry nodded, her expression kind. "It's fine, James. Take care of yourself."

"Thanks so much," Jesse said. He clocked out and threw out his gloves. Sherry pushed the reject pizzas at him and wished him luck on his exams. 

Jesse checked the time and decided to swing by Mike's house before heading over to the dance. He and Mike were in the habit of having dinner together a few times a week, and Jesse would often bring over pizza after work. It was a little earlier than normal, but he figured Mike would probably be there.

He knocked on the door. There was no reply, but Mike called, from his backyard, "Who's there?"

"It's me, um, James."

"Oh. Just come around back, I'm with the chickens."

Jesse walked around Mike's yard, which featured a fenced-in chicken coop and the start of an emergency shelter. Mike was pretty much one step below the people on the Doomsday Preppers reality show that Jesse watched sometimes. But to Jesse, Mike's extreme preparedness seemed much more sensible than those religious crazies' did. 

"You expecting company?" Mike asked, nodding at Jesse's stack of pizzas.

"Oh. No, um, my manager just let me take these because I fucked them all up?"

"That doesn't seem like it gives you much incentive to do your job, does it?"

"Uh, guess not?"

"Hmm," Mike said. "Well, I'm just about done here, but the back door's unlocked. You can go set those down inside."

Jesse put the pizzas down on Mike's kitchen table. Moments later, Mike joined him in the kitchen. He washed his hands, opened the top pizza box, and said, "Looks fine to me."

"I put pepperoni on it but it was supposed to be a veggie."

Mike shrugged and took a piece. "And it couldn't have gone to somebody who ordered pepperoni?"

"Uh, it's like, in the timing? Like it has to get there in 30 minutes and nobody else ordered one with veggies and pepperoni in that time window, so… it's mine."

"Works for me," Mike said. "You don't want any?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You feel okay?"

"Uh… look, Mike, I wanted to tell you that Annie is doing some kind of background check on you?"

"Hmm," Mike said calmly. He took another bite of pizza.

"She already figured out that you haven't been at Greendale for 15 years."

"Well, good for her."

"You're not… worried?"

"There's not much of a paper trail on me, kid. I mean, it's not great if she figures out there are holes in my teaching credentials, but I'm far from the least qualified professor here."

"Yeah, but…"

Mike said, "Jesse, you really think some community college student is gonna figure out what the police couldn't?"

"Maybe not any community college student, but… Annie's pretty hardcore."

Mike snorted. "I'm not worried about Annie. And you shouldn't be, either. Eat some pizza before it gets cold. Also, do you need any eggs?"

"Nah, I still have some from last week, but thanks," Jesse said. He decided that if Mike wasn't worried about it, he shouldn't be either, and he went to get a slice of pizza. On his way back from the kitchen, he paused in front of Mike's bulletin board, noting a rejection letter. He asked, "Hey, you heard anything back from any publishers about your comic?"

Mike sighed. "Nothing firm."

Jesse considered his words. He'd seen Mike's cartoons and he was pretty sure he actually knew more about something than Mike did. Jesse didn't want to offend him, though. He understood that Mike's cartoons were important to him. Finally, Jesse said, "Well, you know… just gotta keep working on it. Maybe, um, you could take a drawing class?"

"What, at Greendale?" Mike asked, sounding incredulous.

"I mean, I dunno. Um, in my painting class we're doing a lot of exercises to work on perspective? It's been pretty helpful for me… and I know you were saying you were having trouble drawing Jim in three-quarters view, so, uh… yeah."

"Well, I'll think about it."

"Cool," Jesse said. "Anyway, I guess I should get going. I told Annie I'd help decorate for this dance. I just wanted to… you know, let you know."

Mike said, "Well, thanks, kid, but like I said, don't worry about it. And don't you even think about leaving all those pizzas in my kitchen. I have high cholesterol, you know!"

"Right, okay. Well, see you," Jesse said. He took his screwed-up pizzas and went back to campus, where he found most of the committee frantically taking paper bears down from the walls of the cafeteria.

"Um, what's going on?" Jesse asked. "Did you guys not hear about the--"

"We _heard_ ," Mr. Winger said. "That's why we're taking them down."

"Oh. Okay. Uh, I brought pizza?" Jesse said, setting the boxes down on one of the tables.

" _That's_ the kind of thinking this committee needs," Professor Duncan said. "Wait, is it American pizza?"

"It's from Pizza Time?" Jesse said.

"Works for me," Professor Duncan said, and he took a slice.

Shirley said, "We don't have much time to redecorate before the dance. You're taking art class, right, James? Do you have any ideas?"

Jesse looked at all the bears and said, "I guess we could maybe… turn them into dogs? Like, change the ears?"

"Yeah," Chang said. "Like, fat dog it for midterms!"

"Uh… sure?" Jesse said. "Is that… like a Colorado expression?"

"No, that is an expression nowhere," Mr. Winger said. 

"It is better than what we have now," Shirley said. 

"Yes, because what we have now is an atrocity," Mr. Winger said.

Jesse set to work turning a polar bear into a Dalmatian with some black paint. "What do you guys think?"

"It's not a bear!" Professor Duncan said.

"Oh, that's nice," Shirley said.

"Fat dog it!" Chang exclaimed. 

"Yeah, bitch!" Jesse cheered.

"Excuse me, but I'll thank you to watch your language," Shirley said.

"Oh. Um, sorry, I didn't mean it like… " 

"Don't worry about it, James. Just make more dogs," Mr. Winger said. 

"Got it," Jesse said. Somehow, they managed to get everything changed over before Annie got there, and even more miraculously, they convinced Annie to accept their weird, last-minute theme. 

Shirley whispered, "Thank you, James!" and he smiled. To use Shirley's word, it was _nice_ to be appreciated for his work, even when the work was kind of goofy. 

The dance was pretty nice, too. Jesse spent a lot of the night hanging out with Britta. She told him about her time in the Peace Corps and all the places she'd been. Britta was so interesting. The only other country Jesse had ever been to was Mexico, and he couldn't really tell her any stories about that trip. Jesse knew the rest of the Save Greendale Committee made fun of Britta for all her lost causes, but Jesse had never known anyone like her, and he admired her. Plus, she was super pretty.

After Garrett accidentally found out about the bears, and the dance devolved into chaos, Jesse walked Britta to her car to make sure she didn't get trampled.

"Do you want to come back to my place?" she asked. "Um, I could show you my photo albums from Peace Corps, if you want to see them."

Jesse did want to see them, but he said, "Nah, thanks, I should probably just go home and get some sleep."

She said, "Yeah, totally, it's been a long week. Maybe another time?" 

"Yeah," Jesse said, hating himself a little. "Another time." 

Britta smiled and drove off. Jesse found his own car and slumped down in the driver's seat. He knew the best thing he could do for Britta would be to never talk to her again, but he couldn't help but wish he could be one of her lost causes.


	5. Advanced Group Dynamics

Monday morning, after midterms, Jesse got a text from Britta that said, "SGC mtg 2day at 12, can u come?"

He wrote back, "Ok," and she replied, "gr8." 

He wondered what the committee meeting was about. Their next one wasn't scheduled until Friday. He supposed Annie had probably found some new urgent crisis for them to deal with. He still had time before he had to leave for the meeting, so he finished his Spanish worksheet, then packed a few pieces of leftover pizza in his backpack and headed out.

When he got to the study room, he found Britta, Annie, Abed, Shirley, and Mr. Winger all studying some different papers. When he walked in, they all froze and looked up at him. The looks on their faces made Jesse's heart sink.

"Um, hey, guys," Jesse said.

"Hey, _Jesse_ ," Annie said, and then he knew his worst fears had come true.

Jesse dropped his bag and tried to see what everyone was looking at. He thought about denying it, but really, what was the point? He was sure Annie had done her research. The decision he had to make now was if he should try to run or just face the music. But knowing Annie, she'd probably already called the cops, and anyway, Jesse knew he was too tired for both flight and fight. 

Mr. Winger said, "Annie has this crazy idea that you're actually Jesse Pinkman, a meth kingpin from Albuquerque."

"Uh," Jesse said. 

"See? He's not denying it," Annie said.

"James?" Britta asked.

Jesse sat down and put his face in his hands. "Yeah, I'm… I'm Jesse Pinkman. Whatever else Annie found out about me is probably true," he said dully.

"Did you really shoot a bunch of Neo-Nazis with an M60 machine gun, Rambo style?" Abed asked. He sounded weirdly excited.

"Um, no, that was… that was, um, Walter White. You probably read about him too." He chewed his lip. In the name of honesty, he added, "I did kill one of them. I'm pretty sure he deserved it, though."

"I can't believe this. You're a _murderer,_ " Annie said. "And a drug dealer."

"You're a drug dealer too," Britta said, irritably.

"Uh! I _was_ a pharmaceutical representative," Annie said. "With perfectly legal drugs."

"That you gave to us without our consent," Abed said.

Jesse couldn't quite believe that the group was squabbling about this rather than focus on his story. On one hand, he didn't mind. But on the other hand, he kind of wanted to get this over with. 

"It's totally different," Annie protested.

Mr. Winger said, "I think maybe we should get back to the topic at hand."

"Yeah. James, you _lied_ to me?" Britta said. "You know how important honesty is to me."

Jesse blinked. "I'm sorry. I just… I wanted a… fresh start. I kinda didn't think anyone would want to hang out with me if they knew who I really was."

"I can get past the lying, but you _killed_ people?" Annie said.

Jesse said, "Yeah. I… did a lot of things that I really wish I hadn't done. But I… didn't know what else to do. I guess."

"You know, as a lawyer, I should probably suggest that you… not say any of this stuff," Mr. Winger said.

Jesse shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I… I'm done."

"You're done? What does that mean?" Britta asked. "Are you suicidal?" She sounded concerned for him. 

"I mean, you can call the police or whatever you want to do. I'll confess. I just… I can't start over again," Jesse said.

"Why don't you confess to us?" Annie said. "We're your friends."

"I told you, I did all of this," Jesse said, sweeping his arm out at the stuff on the study room table.

"You haven't even looked at all of these articles. How do you know?" Annie said. "Some of it… I just can't imagine you doing, I really can't."

"Yeah, well… I guess you don't know everything," Jesse said flatly.

"Tell us," Britta said. "I can write a psychological profile of you."

"Ugh. James--Jesse--no, whatever, just gonna keep calling you James--you should not let Britta do that," Mr. Winger said. 

"Are you guys just trying to torture me?" Jesse asked. "Can't you just get this over with and call the police?"

"The police don't have authority on Greendale's campus," Abed said. "Only the campus security."

"Okay, so call them," Jesse said.

"We no longer have any campus security guards," Abed said. "You weren't here for that, but it was a pretty good arc."

"We just want you to tell us the truth. You owe us that much," Annie said.

"Fine," Jesse said. "Okay, fine, if that's what you want." He took a deep breath and told them everything, the whole story. Somehow, he told them all of it, about Jane, and Brock, and Drew Sharp, and Andrea. After a deep breath, he told them about his time with the Neo-Nazis. He'd practiced telling this a few times now, once to Agents Schrader and Gomez, and more recently to Mike, so it came out a little smoother now. Still, he couldn't keep himself from crying. He was surprised when Annie, Britta, and Shirley also cried at his story. He was ashamed that his new friends would know everything he'd done, but it also felt kind of good to get it all off his chest. 

He concluded, "So, after all of that… um, then I stole a car, and got out of there. I went and picked up some money and the fake IDs I'd had made before, like for an emergency, and I got a new car. And I drove north and ended up in Greendale, and… uh… well, I guess you know the rest."

Jesse took a deep breath and looked down at the table, fidgeting with the NA chip in his pocket. The only part he didn't tell about was Mike, because so far Annie hadn't said anything about him, and he wasn't sure what they knew. Jesse was tired of lying on his own behalf, but he didn't want to sell out Mike. 

"Wow, that would make a great movie," Abed said. "Or a TV show, maybe."

"Abed! It's not TV! It's his _life_ ," Britta said. "Ja-Jesse, that's… I can't believe all that happened to you. I'm so sorry."

"But… it was my fault," Jesse said.

"It actually sounds like most of it was that guy Walter White's fault," Mr. Winger said. "That's definitely how I'd argue it in court. I mean, he was your former high school teacher. That's messed up."

"It just goes to show you that you can't trust authority figures," Britta said.

"Can we talk about the Nazis? Holy crap, Nazis are the best villains," Abed said. 

"The best… they _tortured_ me," Jesse said. "They treated me like a _dog_. Worse than a dog."

Annie, who was studying a set of photos of the Neo-Nazis' compound, sniffed and wiped her eyes. She handed Jesse a Kleenex.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean they're the best villains for dramatic tension. Of course they're the worst villains in real life," Abed said. "Not great for complexity, though. When it's anyone versus Nazis, the Nazis are the bad guys. The other person is a good guy. You're the good guy."

"Abed's tenuous grasp on reality aside, he's not wrong," Mr. Winger said.

"And you Slave Leia'd one of the Nazis! That's the best thing I've ever heard," Abed said.

Jesse rubbed his face and looked around the table. "I don't really understand what's happening here," he said.

"I think Jeff's about to give a speech. That should clear it up," Abed said.

Mr. Winger muttered something under his breath, and he said, "Fine. Um… look, Greendale is a place where everyone can get a fresh start, no matter how badly they've messed up in the past. The only reason we're here instead of a better school is because we've all made mistakes. I falsified my law degree and lost sight of what was truly important in life. Annie struggled with prescription drugs and lost her scholarship to a real school. Shirley gave her best years to her children. Abed doesn't understand the difference between pop culture and reality. Britta… is Britta. You're a former meth cook. We're all here to get a fresh start. So who are we to judge you? You're a good member of the Save Greendale Committee, and you're the newest member of our Greendale family. And family doesn't turn each other over to the cops."

"Wait, are you serious?" Jesse asked. "I mean that was a pretty good speech, but the stuff I did was… way worse than being a fake lawyer or taking prescription drugs or whatever."

"Maybe so, but only the Lord can judge you," Shirley said. 

"You don't need to go to jail. You need a therapist. May I recommend myself?" Britta asked.

Mr. Winger said, "Britta's probably right about the first half of that."

"Or you could just come to church with me," Shirley said sweetly.

Jesse licked his lips and looked desperately around the room. Annie said, "Jesse, I… I'm glad you told us the truth. And I agree with Jeff. You deserve a fresh start."

"Um," Jesse said.

Annie gathered up her papers and said, "I'm going to shred these. And the ones I have about Mike Ehrmantraut. I'm glad you're both getting another chance at Greendale."

"Oh. You know about Mike, too?"

"That's actually why I started looking into you," Annie admitted. "I found out more information about Professor Hickey--Mike--and it led me to Albuquerque, and then I saw a picture of you in an old newspaper article, and I remembered how defensive you were of him, and I dug a little deeper, and, well, here we are!"

"Oh. You're a really good detective," Jesse said. It had taken the DEA over a year to find out all the stuff Annie had put together. Well, she had a head start from the story being in the newspapers and all, but it was still impressive.

"Thanks!" Annie chirped.

Jesse said, "You're not going to say anything about Mike, are you? I mean, Mr. Hickey?"

"Not unless you think I should," Annie said.

"No! No, please don't. I owe Mike my life. And I know… I know he's retired from all of this stuff. Like, a hundred percent."

"If Chang gets to keep his job, I don't see why Buzz shouldn't get to keep his, too," Mr. Winger said.

Annie said, "I agree."

"Man, Annie, I can't believe you found an actual wanted person but we couldn't solve the Ass Crack Bandit," Mr. Winger said. "Wait, James, that wasn't you, was it?"

"Um, no, I swear, Mr. Winger. Like I said, I'm done with all that stuff."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to say, outside of class you should call me Jeff. It's just weird otherwise."

"Oh. Okay, Jeff."

"I have follow-up questions. Do you know Star-Burns? Was he part of your drug empire?" Abed asked.

"It was really more Mr. White's empire… and no, I don't know anyone named Star-Burns?" Jesse said.

"His real name is Alex," Abed said. "He's the one who was in the cage at the dance we had to celebrate catching the Ass Crack Bandit?"

"Oh, I remember hearing about that… I had to work that night," Jesse said apologetically.

"Well, his sideburns are shaped like stars," Annie said. "It's kind of his defining characteristic. Also, he faked his own death in a meth lab explosion."

"Also he's gross," Mr. Winger said.

"Oh. Well… no, I don't know that guy," Jesse said.

"Now he lives in the stables on campus. He's working on a cat car," Annie said.

"Wait, so, he's not in jail?" Jesse said. "Also, what's a cat car?"

Annie shrugged. "He made a deal with the Dean. He's basically harmless. Some of his cats bite, though."

"His cats are probably just misunderstood," Britta said.

"This is a really weird school," Jesse said.

"You're just now figuring that out?" Mr. Winger said.

"I guess not," Jesse admitted.

"It's a good school, though," Annie said. "It's better with you in it."

"I just… you're sure about this?" Jesse said. "Because if this is some kind of long-term sting or something, I'd really rather you just turn me in now."

"We wouldn't," Britta said. "I promise." Around the table, everyone nodded and murmured. 

Annie said, "Let's make this official. We, the study group subcommittee of the Save Greendale Committee, have decided that James Anderson is a valued member of the Greendale community and we will not talk about any of his pre-Greendale activities, to anyone, ever. Um, and also, same for Professor Hickey."

"Seconded," Britta said.

"Save Greendale Committee meeting adjourned," Annie said, pounding on the table with the palm of her hand. 

"This actually took a lot longer than I thought it would," Mr. Winger said. "We're late for Fundamentals of Law. No, wait, we missed it."

"Jeff!" Annie said.

" _You're_ the one who scheduled this meeting."

"You're the teacher! You should have excused yourself!"

"So you would have skipped my class for this?"

While they argued, Britta caught Jesse's eye and said, "This is going to take them awhile to sort out. I'm supposed to go volunteer at the Humane Society this afternoon. Do you want to come with me? And before you say no, you should know that animal therapy is very valuable for victims of trauma."

"Uh, yeah, okay," Jesse said.

Abed said, "Before you go, I want to second Jeff's advice about not letting Britta be your therapist. Also, can I write a screenplay based on your life?"

"Um, sure?"

"Awesome."

Britta said, "Come on, Jesse, I'll drive."

"You should probably keep calling me James?"

Britta said, "I totally will, when other people are around."

Despite what everyone had said, Jesse still half-expected Britta to drive him to the nearest police station. But she didn't. She drove him to the Humane Society, and he sat through a volunteer orientation video as if he hadn't just spent hours confessing a string of heinous crimes. The video stressed that animals who had endured abuse might be wary of accepting affection, and should be handled with care. 

After the video, Britta handed him a little black kitten.

"Aww," Jesse said. "You're a cute little guy, huh?"

"She's a girl," Britta said.

"Oh. My apologies, Miss Kitty," Jesse said. The kitten purred.

"Can you believe somebody would throw a helpless animal into the streets like garbage?" Britta said. "It's disgusting."

Jesse _could_ believe it, but he admired Britta's outrage. "Yeah, it totally sucks."

"I just wish I could give all these cats a home," she said with a sigh. Two stripey kittens were sitting on her shoulders and playing with her hair. "But my cats have trouble coping with change, so I just come here to visit with all these other cats every week. If they don't get regular affection, then they're harder to find homes for later, because they're not used to people."

"Oh."

Britta said, "You should come over and meet my cats sometime. They're very inspirational, because of how they've overcome their disabilities. And because of how cute they are."

"Yeah, okay."

"Maybe after the Save Greendale Committee meeting on Friday? Unless you have other plans?"

"No, that should be good."

"Oh, no, wait, I'm supposed to go to a candlelight vigil for Venezuela on Friday night," Britta said, dangling a toy in front of a gray cat, who hissed at it.

"For… what about Venezuela?"

"You don't _know_ what's happening in _Venezuela_?" Britta asked.

"Um, no, sorry," Jesse said, gently extracting the gray cat's claws from his ankle. "You can tell me about it?"

"I would love to," Britta said. 

Jesse spent the rest of his afternoon being gnawed on by kittens and listening to Britta try to explain Latin American politics. It was actually really interesting to Jesse, and he happily agreed to go to the vigil with her on Friday. He even offered to help make posters for it.

That night, Jesse told Mike about everything. Mike nodded and said, "Sounds like you've got some good friends, Jesse."

"So, like, you think we should trust them?"

Mike shrugged. "Yeah, I think we can trust them. And you said it yourself--I don't think either of us wants to start over again. But just in case, do you still have that bomb you made for my class?"

"Um…"

"I'm kidding, Jesse." He paused and added, "We'd need something better than that to intimidate Annie." Mike laughed, and after a moment, Jesse did too. 

Mike and Mr. Winger had been right--Greendale Community College really was a place where people could get a fresh start. Jesse was glad he'd ended up here instead of Alaska. Or Venezuela. Venezuela sounded pretty rough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Thanks so much to all the lovely Human Beings who responded favorably to this goofy crossover, especially likeadeuce and veradune! 
> 
> PS: the gratuitous kittens are for biblionerd07.
> 
> PPS: OMG OMG OMG [veradune](http://archiveofourown.org/users/veradune) [made this amazing, adorable art of Jesse & Britta with kittens OMG GO LOOK AT IT](http://veradune.tumblr.com/post/79231548843/jesse-pinkman-britta-petty-and-kittens-from)


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